


Arr, Here There Be Pirates

by lazylyz



Series: Fair Game Week 2020 [6]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Character Death, M/M, Pirate AU, Swearing, au/free day, but its the character we all want to die, fairgameweek2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:56:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23217370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazylyz/pseuds/lazylyz
Summary: There was something about Clover that both unsettled Qrow and reassured him. His military background kept him weary, and he would have to be on his guard despite desperately trying to ignore the tanned muscle and charming smile. Qrow knew looks had nothing to do with the character of a person, but it had been so long since he’d had someone else on his ship, and he couldn’t help if he enjoyed what little company he got as anything was better than the bottom of a bottle. Besides, both could get him killed, and at least this one talked back.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Series: Fair Game Week 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1665622
Comments: 14
Kudos: 63





	Arr, Here There Be Pirates

**Author's Note:**

> None of this is historically accurate because it takes place on Remnant but with no semblances or magic.

Water lapped, lulling and gentle, against the small skiff Qrow sailed through the waste and wreckage of yet another destroyed schooner. An occasional piece of debris clunked alongside the hull as he maneuvered past several larger remnants of decking and supplies.

A cracked and broken mast jutted out from the water. It’s rigging frayed and unsalvageable with the ship’s pennants strewn across the rippling water. He knew those flags. They were command flags. Ones that denoted rank.

_Fuck._

Qrow dropped the sail on his skiff and pulled alongside the broken mast to the trail of flags in the water. Pulling the flags out of the water, he spied the familiar white spoked wheels, marking the officer on board as an Ace Operative of the Atlas Navy.

What had they been doing all this way from Atlas? The islands nearby were uninhabited with no springs or resources, and the closest outpost miles away and not under Atlas’ jurisdiction.

Qrow looked across the scattered wrecked ship, letting his eyes scan for anything notable. Bright red cloth drew his attention. Pushing the skiff away from the broken mast, he paddled through the wreckage, shifting aside debris as he went.

As he got closer, the red was easier to see. It was a tattered and beaten coat worn by a man draped on the edge of some broken decking face up, but unmoving. Qrow sighed. He wasn’t entirely heartless. The least Qrow could do was make sure he got a proper burial instead of being left for the sharks.

Qrow tied the skiff off to the railing that was still intact. He unhooked the halyard, making sure the line was free from the sail and leaned over the edge of the skiff. The body was just close enough to reach without having to get in the water. Pulling at the shoulders, he looped the line around the body, and then closed the shackle. He pulled it taut, making sure to tuck the loop under the man’s arms before attempting to haul him into the skiff.

Setting his feet, Qrow hoisted the body with a pained grunt. The halyard line snapped tight against the mast which didn’t bend under the weight. Qrow heaved, arms burning.

“Fuck, you’re heavy.”

The body rose further and further out of the water with each pull on the halyard. When the body was just over the edge, Qrow tied the line off before going to drag him the rest of the way into the skiff. He went to put his arms around the body, but the slight rise and fall to the man’s chest had Qrow motionless.

He was still alive.

Quickly, Qrow pulled him the rest of the way in and propped him against the bench. Once he was sure the man was secure, Qrow scanned the wreckage for signs of more people, but the sunken remains of schooner left little to search through. It looked like this would be all he would be able to do.

He sailed the skiff towards the small cove where he had anchored _Harbinger_ in order to search the wreckage. Qrow glanced down at the man. He was lucky Qrow had been there scouting and scavenging in the wake of his sister’s pillaging. Qrow was thankful _Omen_ and her crew was long gone by the time he got to the wreckage. Though, for her to outright attack an Atlas Military Ship was cause for concern. There must have been a reason for her to be this brazen. 

Qrow pulled himself out of his thoughts. _Harbinger_ lay waiting, anchored in the cove. Her sails furled except for the mizzen, which held her steady in the light breeze. He came alongside the square stern, dropped the sail, and set about connecting the skiff to the davits to raise her on to _Harbinger_ ’s aft deck.

The process was a little more strenuous than he was used to considering the added weight to the skiff, but he managed to hoist her up without completely exhausting himself.

Qrow glanced at the man still nestled in the skiff. Moving him would be difficult. He would just have to wait for him to come to. As if the man could sense Qrow’s thought process, he started to shift.

“Oh good, you’re waking up,” Qrow said, gruffly.

The man sat up, glancing around at his surroundings with eyebrows pinched in the middle. Qrow could feel his breath catch in his lungs when the man looked to Qrow. His bright green eyes reminding Qrow of the miles of emerald sea he navigated. The way the man continued to hold his gaze was captivating, but it was his voice that enthralled Qrow. 

“Um, where am I?” The smooth timbre struck a chord. Qrow found it hard not to give the man his full attention.

“On my ship. You had a bit of a run-in with some pirates. They didn’t leave much behind,” Qrow said, offering the man his hand to help him up. He took it without question, grip sure despite the recent ordeal he had gone through. Qrow quickly dropped his hold once the man was standing, but the warmth lingered.

“And who are you?” The man asked, looking Qrow up and down. Qrow didn’t know what to make of the assessment and whether it was made out of interest or scrutiny. It had been so long since Qrow had been in a situation like this. He couldn’t let his own interest cloud his decision making.

“Qrow,” he answered, but the man waited for more. Qrow wouldn’t give him that. He couldn’t give him that, not till he was sure he could trust him. “You are?”

“Oh, pardon. I’m Ace Operative Clover Ebi of the AMS Kingfisher,” he said. “Well, not anymore. Thank you for pulling me from the water. I’m lucky you found me. Any longer and I would have been shark food.”

“Don’t thank me. I just happened to be in the area,” Qrow trialed off, leaving an awkward silence in the wake of his words. He motioned to Clover’s torn coat. “Let me see if I’ve got something to replace that.” 

Leaving Clover above deck, Qrow went below to his quarters to search through one of his trunks. Trying to find something that could fit the man, however, would be difficult. It wasn’t just his height that was a problem, his broad shoulders were not likely to fit into any of Qrow’s tunics. 

Qrow searched through his trunks anyways, and as if by luck, found a larger, billowy shirt that reminded him of the ones Tai used to wear. He ran his fingers over the collar. If it was Tai’s, he wasn’t using it anymore.

Taking the shirt, he made to leave but noticed his coat that hung on the back of a chair. The dark maroon a single point of color in the room. He paused for a moment before he grabbed it and slung it around his shoulders. The fabric was a heavy and familiar comfort he knew he would need. 

Back on deck, he found Clover had gotten out of the skiff and was leaning against the railing looking out at the remains of his ship. Qrow approached, making sure his presence was known as to not startle the man.

“Umm, here.” Qrow played with the edge of the shirt before offering the clothing to Clover. “I don’t know if it will fit, but it’s better than your tattered coat.”

Clover took the shirt and held it up. He let out a snort and said, “I don’t think my arms will fit.”

“Just rip ‘em off if they don’t. You’ll catch death in your waterlogged gear. Don’t waste all my effort pulling you out of the water to just die.”

Clover laughed. The sound was rich and warm, and Qrow found himself chuckling along.

“Thank you,” Clover said. “I couldn’t have been luckier having you pull me from the water. Any other might have ransomed my life.”

Qrow tilted his head in Clover’s direction not intending to steal a look at his muscular physique as he started to pull off his torn clothes. Qrow quickly averted his gaze. Despite being bruised and battered, Clover was an impressive individual, that had Qrow silently cursing his luck.

“No promises,” Qrow said, glancing back over to the sunken wreckage of the AMS Kingfisher. “Were you close to any of your crew?”

“I would like to say I was,” Clover replied. There was a faint ripping sound as he took the sleeves off the shirt. Qrow couldn’t hide the small smirk at the action. “But at the end of the day, they were Atlas Military first, acquaintances second.”

“Not even friends?”

“No,” Clover said. He stood next to Qrow, following his gaze to the wreak. Qrow couldn’t place the look on the man’s face. Remorse would be commonplace in a situation like this, but his features were devoid of emotion. It was hard to get a read on him. 

“Not even friends,” Clover finished. He took a deep breath and turned to Qrow. He motioned to the shirt and said, “Well, it kind of fits.” 

Qrow chuckled at the sight. The shirt fit tight across his chest, but he would be remiss to admit that’s not what held his attention. The sleeves Clover had torn off put his biceps on full display. The sculpted muscle bulged as he flexed, and Qrow felt a weight sink to the bottom of his stomach. He did everything in his power to keep an undignified noise from escaping his throat.

Clover, as if unaware of Qrow’s plight, gripped his red tattered coat. The fabric was unsalvageable, so he tore a piece off along the seam before tossing the rest of the coat overboard. Taking the strip of cloth, he attempted to tie it around his bicep. Qrow watched him fumble with the action until he took pity on the man.

“Here,” he sighed. “Let me get that.”

Qrow took the cloth from Clover’s hand and wrapped it around his bicep. He focused on tying the knot instead of the heat under his fingers as he worked. When he finished, Qrow looked up almost coming nose to nose with Clover who had been attentively watching him.

He didn’t realize how close he had become. Qrow felt a flush fill his cheeks. He quickly backed away, letting his hands fall limply to his sides.

“So, what now? Did you have a destination you needed to get to?” Clover asked, clearing his throat as he did so.

“No, I wasn’t headed anywhere in particular,” Qrow replied. “There an outpost that’s less than a day’s sail away. I can drop you off there and you can pick up passage on a trading vessel to get where you need to go.”

“That sounds reasonable.”

“If we leave now, we can get there just before nightfall,” Qrow said. An uneasy quiet fell between them, and Qrow, not wanting it to linger, made to batten down the hatches. Clover trailed after him, unsure of his station 

“You have a nice setup here,” Clover motioned across the deck trying to break the disquiet. His eyes swept over the center mast. “You carry no ensign. Where is it you hail from?”

Qrow ignored his question and went about readying the sails and rigging to cast off. Clover, not deterred by his silence, looked about the deck as if to acquaint himself with the layout. 

He came up beside Qrow, his arms crossed and a frown on his face. His bicep bulged underneath the red cloth and held Qrow’s attention more than he was willing to admit. 

“Is it only you on board?” Clover asked with a half-smile on his face as he eyed Qrow in understanding.

“Hmm.” Qrow, realizing he was caught staring, sighed. At least Clover hadn’t called him out on it directly. Figuring he should answer the question, Qrow said, “Yeah. Even though it’s difficult, she’s small enough I don’t need a crew to sail her. Only get a crew if I want to move goods. Though, I’ve gotten away from that in more recent years.” 

“Just scavenging through wreckage then?” Clover asked, following beside him.

“Something like that,” Qrow said with a tilt of his head in Clover’s direction. “Are you just going to stand around and watch? I know I can be captivating to look at, but we don’t want to risk those who attacked your ship to come back. Weigh anchor and then man the sails so we can get out of here faster.”

Clover startled. A flush filled his cheeks, but he acknowledged Qrow’s direction and set to adjusting the sails while Qrow took _Harbinger’s_ helm. 

It had been some time since Qrow had crew on his ship, that was his excuse every time he found his gaze drifting to the Ace Operative. His muscles were tense with controlled effort as he raised the anchor. Once _Harbinger_ started to give way, he looked back to Qrow who quickly let his gaze snap to the horizon and lose focus, hoping in vain Clover hadn’t caught him staring yet again. 

Steering _Harbinger_ out of the cove and towards the open ocean, Qrow silently grumbled to himself about his careless behavior regarding Clover. As if he couldn’t control himself, his eyes drifted back to the deck where Clover was setting the sails with practiced ease to follow the course of the wind. The breeze swept through the short tufts of his hair, leaving it artfully tousled.

There was something about Clover that both unsettled Qrow and reassured him. His military background kept him weary, and he would have to be on his guard despite desperately trying to ignore the tanned muscle and charming smile. Qrow knew looks had nothing to do with the character of a person, but it had been so long since he’d had someone else on his ship, and he couldn’t help if he enjoyed what little company he got as anything was better than the bottom of a bottle. Besides, both could get him killed, and at least this one talked back.

Made him less lonely.

Qrow released a long drawn out sigh, his eyes snapping to the deck once again as Clover tied off the headsail and started to make his way back to the helm. They wouldn’t have to tack for some time, so it would make sense Clover would want to socialize. He seemed like the type who would like that.

“So, you sail these waters often?”

Qrow glanced at him with a raised brow before saying, “Yeah, I sail these waters frequently.”

“I didn’t… I mean or rather I meant if you’re familiar with these waters then you know of those who would, you know, attack other ships,” Clover trailed off.

Qrow nodded. He figured this was going to come up. He just didn’t know for sure if Raven was responsible, but the attack was reminiscent of her style.

“I mean I have my suspicions, but I wanted to confirm with what you knew,” Clover said, looking out over the horizon while worrying at his bottom lip. “I have reason to believe it was the Branwen pirates that attacked our scouting party. We weren’t looking for them, but they found us, unprepared and unawares.”

“I think you were attacked by their ghurab, Omen,” Qrow said, slowly. “She’s got a low draw and is crewed by sixty oarsmen, so she’s able to quickly cut across shallows other sloops would have trouble with at high tide.”

“Fucking pirates,” Clover said, rubbing at the spot between his brow. “Usually, they keep their distance, but for some reason they targeted us.”

Qrow sat in silence as Clover went on. He would be a dead man if Clover found out his relation to Raven. Qrow couldn’t risk getting close. He would drop him off at the nearest outpost and be done with all this.

“Why is it you all are down here anyways? Atlas is a long way off, is it not?”

“Hmm, I shouldn’t really tell you,” Clover said, smirking in Qrow’s direction. Qrow raised a brow at him, waiting him out for an answer. “But I suppose you have some right to know since you fished me out of the water. We were tracking a mark. He killed quite a few people back in Mantel and the General wanted him brought back. Got word that he was in the area. Our task force was sent to find and retrieve him.”

“In Mistral’s waters?”

“We were never supposed to come this far south. We had a few encounters with him, but he slipped past us. I would say it was duty that had us following after him, but now that I think back on it, it was probably pride.”

“Orders do stupid things to people,” Qrow said, gripping the helm tight.

“Hmm, that they do,” Clover replied, looking out over the horizon. Qrow didn’t want to push for conversation with Clover in the off chance he would find out about his connection to the pirates, so the rest of the passage was uneventful. 

The sun drifted overhead and soon settled low on the horizon. The vibrant yellows and reds greeted them as they closed in on the outpost.

Clover helped him ready _Harbinger_ for docking, setting out lines, and making sure to take in the sails to slow their speed. He jumped the rail when they got to the dock, effortlessly setting the spring line before catching the stern line from Qrow. He let the momentum take the ship the rest of the way into the dock before he cleated the line. He sent a two-fingered salute to Qrow when the last line was secured.

Qrow rolled his eyes, tying off the helm while Clover clambered back on board. He strode up to Qrow with a gleam in his eyes that had Qrow on edge.

“Since you got us here safely and so graciously pulled me from the water, how about I treat you to a drink?”

Qrow froze and then said, “I’ve had my fill of those.”

“Then at least let me get you a good meal.”

“Officer…”

“Call me Clover.”

Qrow rolled his eyes and said, “Clover, I should be getting on my way.”

“You won’t let me thank you? And besides, it’s nighttime. The tide is changing. Leaving now could be risky.”

“You don’t need to do anything,” Qrow said, scratching at the back of his neck. 

“But I want to, at least as a better thank you than a verbal one.”

Qrow sighed. Clover’s persistence had him thinking about letting his walls down, even if it was just for the evening.

“Fine, but only a meal. You hear me?”

“Aye aye, Captain.”

They disembarked _Harbinger_. Qrow led them down the pier, skirting around several containers from another docked ship unloading its cargo, and towards the tiny trading post where they could get some food.

Out of the corner of his eye, Qrow caught a figure stepping out from behind a large crate. He turned to face them. Heart freezing when he recognized the individual. Clover snarled next to him.

“Qrow Branwen, as I live and breathe,” the man exclaimed with an exaggerated bow. He rose and spotted Clover beside Qrow. “Annnd, the Atlas Navy man. How cute.”

“Branwen?” Clover’s head whipped in Qrow’s direction, but Qrow ignored him, narrowing his eyes at the man blocking their path. The dark shadows exaggerated Tyrian’s usually crazed features, reminding Qrow of the last time he encountered him.

“Tyrian Callows,” Qrow called back. “I guess the gallows weren’t enough to do the deed then?”

“No, thanks to you,” Tyrian spat, pulling out a cutlass. “Does the family business keep you, or have you forsaken those who trust you most?”

Qrow shook off his coat and twirled his own sword, readying a defensive guard in front of him. “I’d say that it’s none of your concern, but we have a debt to settle.”

“Callows,” Clover called out, hand at his sword but not drawing it.

“I hear the Kingfisher was gutted,” Tyrian said, turning his sights to Clover. “Too bad your litter savior…”

Qrow doesn’t let him finish. With quick practiced movements, he stepped into Tyrian’s space and swiftly jabbed his blade for his throat. Tyrian dodged, bringing his sword up in time to deflect the blow. 

“Raven always was the one more open to listening to negotiations. I guess her brother is the cutthroat one, then?” Tyrian badgered. He pulled out a second cutlass, readying both.

“Brother?”

“Lied to you about being a pirate, didn’t he?” Tyrian snarled, eyes snapping to where Clover stood behind Qrow. A sickening smirk spread across his face. His graying teeth filling out the filthy sneer. 

Clover glanced at Qrow and back to Tyrian. It was clear this new information hurt him. The sorrow-filled eyes, the downset turn to his lips, the drop to his shoulders, were all things Qrow couldn’t address, not with Tyrian bearing down on them, goading them against each other.

Clover growled, drawing his short sword. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Qrow cried out, catching Clover’s blade with the blunt side of his cutlass. Anger replaced the resignation that had been in his eyes since waking on Qrow’s boat. The possibility he would come after Qrow because of the small tangible connection to those who had sunk his ship and killed his crew hurt. Qrow deflected the next strike and used the momentum to lash out at Tyrian.

“Turned against you so easily.” Tyrian cackled all the while blocking attacks from Qrow. He addressed Clover, “Does it hurt to know your crew died for a useless mission?”

Qrow watched as Clover quickly altered his next strike for Tyrian instead of him. The edge of the blade ringing out as Tyrian blocked it. Qrow took the opportunity to take a few strikes at Tyrian, hoping the two of them could break his guard.

“Wouldn’t it be best if we just dealt with the officer?” Tyrian taunted Qrow. “If I remember correctly you never played well with them.”

“What and give up my chance to lay you to rest?” Qrow spat, dodging out of the way of a jab from Tyrian. 

“A soft spot for the rescue then?” 

Tyrian turned his attention to Clover once he realized Qrow wouldn’t fall to his baiting. A sneer curled at the corners of his crooked mouth. 

“Careful getting too close. Misfortune tends to follow this fellow,” he said with a dramatic wave in Qrow’s direction. “Was it the brother-in-law that sank or his second wife? Now that I think about it, it was the wife. Her cries were something special. My Lady loved them.”

Qrow let out a roar, letting his anger fuel a furious assault. Blade singing through the air just missing Tyrian by a hairsbreadth. He snarled, “We should have keelhauled you when we had the chance.”

Tyrian sneered, deflecting each of Qrow’s wild swings with ease.

“What’s he talking about, Qrow?” Clover asked, dropping his guard and taking a step back.

“Leave it, Lucky Charm,” Qrow spat. He didn’t want to be parsing his entire history in the middle of a fight, not that Clover deserved an explanation from him.

Tyrian narrowed his eyes between the two and a smirk spread across his face. Qrow didn’t like the look. He was planning something. In a swift moment, Tyrian was within striking distance of Clover, whose guard was sill down. Qrow moved before he could think it through, sword clanging against sword as he blocked the would-be killing blow.

Wide-eyed, Clover stood there stunned while Tyrian cursed as Qrow backed him away with several quick jabs. Clover startled into action, returning a jab of his own.

“You would team up with a pirate?” Tyrian needled, sidestepping Qrow’s sweeping attack. “Never thought I’d see such a noble man brought low by a liar no less.” 

“Well, I never did ask, so there wasn’t much to lie about. And besides, you’re not a pirate now, right?” Clover asked, his face hardened to a scowl.

“No,” Qrow replied, softly.

Tyrian, furious his meddling wouldn’t be getting under their skin, swiped at Qrow while he was looking at Clover. Qrow, spotting the attack out the corner of his eye, tried to dodge out of the way but didn’t make it in time. The sword sliced across his ribs and a stream of blood flowed from the wound, soaking into his shirt.

Qrow gasped, clutching at his side like he was covering the wound, but tightened his grip on his sword. With one quick fluid movement, he brushed aside Tyrian’s next attack and pulled his dagger out from where it was hidden at his hip. Stepping forward into Tyrian’s space, Qrow thrust the dagger under his ribs before twisting. The pained gasp that left Tyrian’s lips washed over Qrow, but he knew it would take more for the man to go down.

He stepped back and pulled the dagger out as he went. He readied another attack, but a loud blast echoed across the docks. Before him, Tyrian fell to his knees, clutching at his chest. Blood welled from underneath, but there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Qrow glanced back over his shoulder to Clover. His etched flintlock pistol smoked in his outstretched hand. He lowered the gun and started to reload with practiced ease. Tyrian watched, unable to do anything as he bled out.

Qrow stood there stunned. The man that had tormented him, shadowed his every move, stalked his family across the oceans, was dying before his very eyes. Tyrian slumped forward dead as Clover finished reloading. He put the gun in its holster and stooped to pick up Qrow’s coat. Shaking out the dirt, he faced Qrow.

“A life debt is not something I would throw away so easily,” Clover said, offering the coat to Qrow. “It may have taken me a moment to realize that. Even after everything I’d said, you still allowed me passage on your vessel. I truly apologize for my words and my behavior. I never intended you harm, nor to cross your sword.”

“I don’t work with others,” Qrow replied, taking the offered coat, nonetheless. 

“Well, I think that’s a shame,” Clover turned to Tyrian’s dead body. “I’d say we did a pretty good job together.” Qrow didn’t answer. Clover pressed on despite Qrow’s behavior. “And now that Tyrian’s dead, Atlas will have no reason to be in these waters. Besides, when word gets back, the General will think me dead.”

“And, what good is that? Won’t he just send out a search party?”

“No, we were the search party. I don’t think he would risk it, not this far into Vale’s waters.” Clover, his eyes bright, looked to Qrow. “So, what do you say?

“Look, pal. The last time I did this… those I worked with sunk to the bottom of the ocean.”

“But I didn’t.” Clover crossed his arms, drawing Qrow’s gaze to the bulging muscle there. He tilted his head forward in Qrow’s direction, eyebrows raised at him and a smirk that told Qrow he knew exactly what he was thinking.

“I, uh-”

The smirk turned into a smile, and Qrow knew he was sunk. He wouldn’t be able to say no. He rolled his eyes. He looked away, spinning his maroon coat around and fitting it over his shoulders. Qrow strode past Tyrian’s body, not bothering to move it. Someone else could get the word out that he was dead.

“Fine,” Qrow said, giving in. “We set out in the morning. In the meantime, I’ve got a wound to clean.”

“Aye, Captain,” Clover responded cheerily, falling in step beside him.

**Author's Note:**

> And that's it for fair game week! I had fun. I hope you enjoyed reading all the fic or rather will enjoy when you get around to reading them because there are so many new ones now.


End file.
